Dancing in September
by wowwy66
Summary: Pewdie is newly single and needs some party time, Cry is shy and hates clubs. How Pewdiepie convinced him to go to one, we'll never know. (PewdieCry, Oneshot. Enjoy!)


**Dancing in September**

"Come on, it'll be fun."

Pewdiepie had spent two days convincing Cry to go to a nightclub.

He had come to Sweden last week to visit, to cheer Pewdie up after Marzia had left him. She hadn't left him for another guy, but to instead focus on her school. And Pewdie was in a depressed hole. Then Cry came over to comfort him, and the blonde was better by the end of week one. They played video games, watched movies and more. The fans were eating it up.

Then the second Friday rolled around.

"Please can we go to Lågan?" Pewdie begged. "It's Friday night, Cry! We're both bachelors, single and ready to mingle!"

"Nope. I hate clubs." They were noisy, crowded, hot and boring. Too many sluts in one room. You could breath and get a European STD. "What even is Lågan?"

"In English it means The Flame." Pewdie said. "Now please? It'll be fun. One hour, nine to ten. Please?"

"No!"

"What can I do to convince you?!" Pewdie pouted.

"Nothing. I'm not going."

PEwdie thought for a moment. "What if…I did my next Friday with Pewdiepie in a bunny suit?"

"…One hour." Cry sighed. "Only one. And if any girl hits on me you have to come save me." He pushed up his glasses and rolled his eyes.

Pewdie grinned wildly. "Thank you! And I will save you from the evil menace that is the Swedish girl." And he ran to his room to get dressed, even though he had a good five hours until they would leave. Sometimes, Pewds was worse than a girl when it came to getting ready.

Then, the hour came. Cry had desperately wanted to wear his sweatshirt and jeans, but no. Pewdiepie had a better idea. A white button up, a blazer and nice pants. The same outfit for both of them. He made Cry brush his hair and after failing to convince Cry to slip on loafers, allowed him to wear tennis shoes.

They drove to the club quickly, Pewdie a bit too over-eager for being single again. Cry was dreading the red neon sign and the loud music you could hear from outside the club doors on the sidewalks blocks away. And when they parked in a parking garage and walked down the roads, Cry was thinking of excuses. "I think I'm feeling sick, Pewds-"

"False. Don't be nervous, Cry. Don't worry, it'll be fun." Pewdie said. "I pinkie-promise."

They waited in line for twenty minutes, and Pewdie whined until Cry said the hour didn't count until they actually got into the club. When they did get in, though, Cry regretted it.

It was loud, he couldn't hear anything, and the room was hot. It was super crowded and the bar was almost unreachable. It was a mess, and Pewdie loved it. He dragged Cry to the bar and attempted to order, but was ignored twice. Finally, a pretty redhead stepped in and helped him, flirting and trying to talk to him over the loud music. She ordered both boys a vodka and herself white wine. Cry tried to drink, but gave up after he gagged on his first sip. He couldn't find Pewdie within the strobe-lighted crowd.

Cry was now alone in a crowded room.

He couldn't understand the DJ because he was talking in Swedish. Everyone was, either Swedish of English was an accent that couldn't be deciphered. Cry hated it. He felt so alone.

And then, she came.

A girl with long blonde hair and a tiny pink dress. "Halla!" She said.

Cry raised his hand in a greeting. "Hi. I don't speak Swedish." He shook his head.

"Ah, American?" She said eagerly. "How interesting!"

Cry wanted to run away. But, the bad part was he was too polite to do that to a girl bold enough to just walk up and talk to a man. He franticly looked around for Pewdie as the girl talked. He just nodded and answered her questions curtly.

"So, want to dance?"

Suddenly, his arm was grabbed and a voice spoke up. "Sorry, miss. He's taken." Pewdie pulled away the brunette and smiled down at him. "Told you I would save you, Cry. Now come on. Let's dance."

The DJ announced something and people cheered and laughed. Pewdie smirked.

"What did he say?" Cry asked.

"Just listen." And the first chords of _September_ by Earth, Wind and Fire echoed. "He said, 'In honour of the twenty first day of September.' It's our song."

"Our song?!" Cry felt himself blushed.

"Hey, Cry? Do you remember?" Pewdie held out his hand and jokingly spun him around.

"Remember what?"

"September!" Pewdie cried. He began to sing along and dance, over-exaggerating every move. Cry rolled his eyes, trying to act stern. It wasn't working, obviously, and Cry ended up dropping some of the shyness and joining in slowly, until by the final chorus both boys were acting totally insane and getting stared at like they were idiots by every other single person.

Pewdie spun around, grabbed Cry and dipped him. Cry found himself blushing and Pewdie inches from his face. Then, someone bumped into him and the blonde dropped the American to the floor. With an 'ugh', Cry stood up and sighed. "See why I hate clubs?"

"So you didn't enjoy September?"

"...Touché." And then another song started. It was in Swedish, and Cry didn't understand it, but he enjoyed the beat and gladly joined in dancing with Pewdie.

When the boys left the club, they were laughing and walking in the cold.

The next day, they did a co-op, head burning with hangovers.

"Hey Cry?" Pewdie croaked hoarsely.

"What?" Cry's voice spoke. He was playing from his laptop in his guest room, safe from a facecam.

"Do you remember?"

"Remember what?"

"September!"

**A/N: A little fun one-shot for you guys. Enjoy! Love you all! *kisses***


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